


The Not So Typical Bad Boy

by Fogfire



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 12:45:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16387988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fogfire/pseuds/Fogfire





	1. Chapter 1

Crowdedhallways are the loneliest places  
Foroutcasts and rebels  
Or anyone who just dares to be different  
And you’ve been trying for so long  
To find out where your place is  
But in their narrow minds  
There’s no room for anyone who dares to do something different

Zayn

It’s actually funny. Well, not really funny, but he tried to see it like that. Like the sick joke of someone bigger.

The whole six years of primary school he was the outcast. The one with the too dark skin, too dark hair, too foreign parents. He knew more than one language and that was not normal. He liked comics, liked to paint and to read and listened to music when every other boy his age was outside, playing footie or riding his bike.

He was different and he used to like it. He liked himself, because why not?

But then again, no one at school did.

-

It became something normal.

The bullying. Being an outsider. Being the other one.

When he picked up the pen that fell from the table next to him, loud voices called him out, called him a dirty thief.

When he stretched out his hand to help up the little girl that fell from the swings, the girl backed away, scared. And eager, rowdy boys called him out on hitting that poor girl.

He was banned from the playground for a whole day for that.

And all he wanted was to help the girl.

-

Countless hours wasted crying into his mums shoulder, sniffling and bawling and weeping.

Countless hours being furious and angry and just… done with this unfairness. He wanted to slap them all in the face, he wanted to be just as angry and rebellious and bad as they saw him… but then again… why?

And yes, when he entered secondary school, he bought himself a leather jacket. He got his ears pierced and made himself a new identity. The bad boy at school, the teddy bear at home.

He was never mean, he was never „bad“, he just let them think what they wanted to think and kept to himself.

The hallways cleared themselves when he came along, there were rumours about him stealing, smoking, having three girlfriends at the same time, and so on.

It was funny, in a sick way, because despite all this rumours, he spent his free time at home like he did in primary school, listening to music, painting and watching countless disney movies with his two little sisters.

All he wanted was a friend. A friend that wouldn’t laugh about the fact that he could sing every Hanna Montana song by heart. A friend that wouldn’t care about rumours, labels, about what the others thought.

 

But who did he try to fool? The only friend he wanted was you. The girl, that fell from the swings a long time ago.

\- - -

 

You

„You’re really clumsy, aren’t you?“ You closed your eyes, recognizing his voice easily. You wouldn’t call him your nemesis. More like your personal nightmare. „Hi Zayn.“ You whispered, every muscle in your body tensing up. Of course, of course, he had to be there when you wobbled on your stupid new shoes. Not that your balance was better without them. „You dropped your book.“ He stated the obvious and leaned forward to pick it up. You bent down immediately, getting a hold of it before he did. The last thing you needed today was him stealing your book. You heard enough stories of him doing that. According to Brianna, who had heard it from Sarah, he dropped a bottle of coke into the Michelles backpack right in the morning. Her history project was completely destroyed! „I got it, I got it.“ You couldn’t stop the panic from being evident in your voice, he scared you like hell.

And to top it all, from the first day you moved here in the middle of the school year back in primary school, he seemed to hate you. On the very first day he dropped his grape juice on your brand new yellow dress and although he apologized everyone told you that he did that on purpose. From that day, he followed you, not like a shadow, but he seemed to be everywhere you were. More often than not your worst accidents happened right then and there.

Like the one time he ran into you after school and you tripped and lost a tooth, ruining your shirt with the blood gushing out of your mouth.

You got called „toothless“ for a month after that and he never really apologized.

His eyes are dark when you look up again and it makes you nervous. „I just wanted to help.“ You gulp, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, thinking of a way to get away from him. Fast.

„Is that a new shirt?“ „Yes…“ You mumbled, embarrassed that he noticed. He noticed every change on you and frankly, it creeped you out. „I’m… going to be late… I should… go…“, you mumbled, backing away when he shoots forward, hands stretched out. „No!“ You flinch and freeze, scared, looking at his arms in panic. He puts them back at his side, fingers clenched into fists, trembling. ‘He’s going to hit me.’, you think, 'Like he hit Jimmy last month. I’m going to have a black eye and a broken nose and…’ „Do you even listen to me?“ You blink.

His lips are a thin white line, his eyes are dark from feelings and he shakes his head, backing a way. You take a deep breath, scared and afraid and just… overwhelmed. What did you do to make him dislike you so much?

„Are you going to fall again or do I need to help you walk?“ You flinch at his choice of words and he blanches for a moment, before he shakes his head, biting his lip and turning around with out another word. Leaving. For the moment, but not forever unfortunately.

 

In times like this you wished you could be invisible. At least to him.


	2. Chapter 2

Zayn

So your confidence is quiet  
To them quiet looks like weakness  
But you don’t have to fight it  
‘Cause you’re strong enough to win without a war

He looks at the poster at the side of his room, the lyrics of one of his favourite songs and the colourful background he painted himself. His mother made him do it, hung up the poster after a particular bad day at school and today he needs it, more than ever.

„Zayn?“ His little sister is standing at the door, thumb in her mouth even though she’s supposed to drop that habit, staring at him with big brown eyes. „Can we go to the playground?“ He’s tired, but he nods. „Sure honey, go ask the others if the want to join.“

Half an hour later he’s standing behind the swings, pushing his little sister until she’s screaming from happiness. „I’m gonna do a loop the loop!“ „If you want that, do it, just don’t fall of.“

He didn’t know how much he needed that, the laughing and messing around, running across the park with a girl sitting on his shoulders while the other one chases him around.

When they need to get back for dinner their clothes are stained from grass and mudd and Zayns back aches from carrying them around all day.

„Can we go, auntie, can we go?“ A boy whines near them and Zayn looks up, not voluntarily, but due to the loud noise. He looks straight into your eyes, wide and surprised and he doesn’t know how long you’ve been on the playground now, how much you’ve seen of the side of him he wanted you to see, but is too afraid to show. He doesn’t know all that, but he knows, he needs to talk to you. Right now, right here.

He needs to let it out, somehow, that he likes you, that he’s not the bad guy, and if there’s something bad left in him, he wants it to be good for you.

And he opens his mouth, but there’s nothing in him, no words to speak.

He’s a guy of colours and pictures and music and notes.

He’s a quiet guy, he’s never had a way with words.

How he wished it was different.

And while he’s still trying to get something out, stumbling and stuttering in his head and speechless and silent on the outside, you’re nephew all but drags you off of the playground, wailing and screaming and you’re beet read and want to stay, want to know more about that Zayn you’ve never imagined him to be like, but people are staring already. Your nephew got his mothers set of lungs if he wants something.

Right now he wants an ice-cream and he wants to go home.

\- - -

You

Maybe, if it wouldn’t have been a friday, it would have ended differently. You would have had to stop thinking about it in the middle of the night to get some sleep, you wouldn’t been able to lay in bed until the wee hours, staring at the ceiling, going through every single thing you heard about Zayn, saw about Zayn, lived through with Zayn. Could it be that you had been wrong?

But all those people – there needed to be some truth in it, right?

If it hadn’t been friday, you would have had to meet him in school, in the middle of hundreds of teenage kids that thought they new better, all eyes on him, all ears on you. Maybe you would have backed out of talking, would have assumed that what you saw was just a coincidence. Even bad boys could be good sometimes, right?

But here you were, on the doorstep of his house, finger on the doorbell, heart beating fast.

„Who are you?“ It’s a little girl that’s in front of you, curly black hair, front teeth missing, eyes like Zayn. „I’m… I’m…“ „Who is it, Donya?“ You recognize his voice immediately and you freeze, thinking about running but unable to move a single muscle. „Oh…“ His voice’s gone all raspy and breathless for a moment, before he shoo’s Donya back inside. „What… what are you doing here?“ „Who are you actually?“ You blurt out instead of an answer, staring at him. „All the time I thought you hated me and everyone around and now I’m not sure at all who you really are.“ He stares at you, black eyes big and beautiful. „I actually like you really much.“ He breathes out, almost like a sigh and you’re almost choking on your breath because… that can’t be true, right?

„And for the other part… come in, I’ll show you.“

There’s a saying. „Show me your friends and I’ll tell you who you are.“ Zayn doesn’t have friends at school, but you have and after an hour at the Malik household you’re ashamed of everyone that has ever told lies about him. He’s so not like that.

„If you want to know how a boy is, look at how he treats his family.“ That’s your mothers saying and oh boy, Zayn is a sweetheart, if you go after that. Donya won’t stop showing you all the drawings he made for her, the little pink Tiara he bought her.

When you leave, he walks you to the bus stop. You two are silent, you are chewing on your lip. „You know, you’re actually the opposite of a bad boy.“ He humms, cheeks red and you think of his words earlier. „You know…“ you whisper „I actually like you a lot too.“

His eyes are bright from surprise and when your finger reach out for his, they curl around yours like they belong there.

\- - -

On monday morning, you sit in the bus, your friends on either side, talking about a show you missed because you stayed at Zayns place to watch a Hannah Montana marathon with his sisters. You’re thinking about telling them, but how? How could you show them what you saw, show them, that they were wrong all the time? So you keep for yourself, nervous, if Zayn will be the same old silent bad boy he was last week, or will he be the shy, timid, funny boy you met this weekend? The one that calls you „habibti“ because it’s arabic for Darling and draws cartoons on your wrist when you’re trying to watch telly.

But when she steps out of the bus, he’s waiting just a few feet away, picking at his nails, just as nervous as she is. „What’s he doing here? Watch out, he’s trying to prank you!“ Brianna calls out and you see him tense, raising his head to look at you all. You turn around, smile at the girls and shake your head. „No, he’s not.“ „Oh and why are you so sure?“ „Because I know him.“ And with that you turn away from them and walk to him, smiling bright to assure him that everything’s okay.

It doesn’t matter that he’s wearing that „bad boy leather jacket“ or that he has sadness in his eyes. Because when you reach him, he’s able to put his arm around your shoulders, to hold you close, despite the looks and the whispering. You giggle into his side. „Hi, you too. What do we have for first period?“ „English.“ „Whoo, wanna sit next to me?“ „Where else?“

\- - -

When you leave for college, the two of you, school is already used to the happily ever after couple. And in college, they can’t imagine that there has ever been a time where you two haven’t been friends. Still, you have your clumsiness and Zayn still owns a leather jacket. That’s okay, because, honestly, it suits him quite well.

And when your oldest son’s first day of school nears, Zayn comes home with a leather jacket as a present, telling him to never forget, „That you can be what you want to be.“


End file.
